


you're pretty when you're mine

by darlingargents



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Related, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, F/F, Face-Sitting, Sex Toys, Sexual Coercion, Sibling Incest, Underage Masturbation, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingargents/pseuds/darlingargents
Summary: “What is it?” Addy asks.Pat grins. “It’s called a dildo.”
Relationships: Patrick Hockstetter/Eddie Kaspbrak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	you're pretty when you're mine

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags on this. There's lots going on! If you're worried it will upset you, best to skip this one :)
> 
> Note/additional warning: there's a brief mention of F!Patrick touching F!Eddie in places no one else does; it's meant to refer to very brief inappropriate grabbing and touches, not CSA. Their first actual sexual contact in this AU is within this fic.
> 
> Title from Pretty When You Cry by VAST, and many thanks to [opheliahyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opheliahyde) for the beta! ♥

On Addy’s thirteenth birthday, after the cake and presents from mom, and watching a movie while braiding and unbraiding Roxie’s hair — Pat climbs in Addy’s window at just past eleven.

Mommy is asleep already, Addy’s sure, but her heart still jumps nervously, eyes darting to her door. Mommy really doesn’t like it when Pat visits her, which is why Pat always comes late at night.

“Hey, little sis,” Pat says. In the faint light from Addy’s lamp, she can see Pat’s inverted-cross earrings swinging, bits of her hair escaping her bun and hanging around her neck. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Addy says, some of her nerves fading as the house stays quiet, not a sound from Mommy’s room. She sits up and puts the comic she’d been reading aside — it had been Sara’s present for her.

“Sorry I couldn’t come to the party.” Pat comes and sits down on the end of her bed. Addy notices she’s holding a box, plain cardboard, and she gets a little thrill of excitement. More presents are always good. “Your mom would’ve killed me.”

Addy nods sadly. It’s true. Pat is her half-sister, through her dad, and two years older; two years that seemed like a lifetime with how fast Pat had grown up. She lives with her own mom now, on the other side of town, and Mommy only lets them see each other a couple times a year outside of school. Addy can’t begin to count the awful things Mommy has said about Pat and her mom.

She’d asked, over and over, if Pat could come to her party. Mommy had said no.

“I got you something anyway,” she says, and hands the box to Addy. It’s heavier than expected, and something inside seems to roll as she takes it. “Open it up.”

Addy pulls the tape off and opens the lid.

She doesn’t even know what she’s looking at, at first. It looks like plastic or rubber, cylindrical, and bright pink. She reaches in to pick it up and it’s oddly soft, and gives a little when she squeezes. One end tapers and ends in a slightly bigger head, the other has two rounded shapes at the bottom.

“What is it?” she asks.

Pat grins. “It’s called a dildo.”

“A what?”

“You put it in yourself.” Pat reaches down between Addy’s legs and presses her hand to that spot, the spot she’s afraid to go near, the spot that Mommy has always told her to keep away from. “With some of the lube — I got you a bottle of that, too—”

“Oh my god,” Addy says, and drops it back in the box. “Is that supposed to be—”

“Yep.”

“Oh my  _ god _ .” Her face flames red. She’d  _ squeezed _ it. “I can’t — I can’t put that in me. Why would I do that?”

“Because it feels good. And you, baby, are growing up.”

Pat taps the tip of her nose, and Addy flinches away. She hands the box back to Pat. “I don’t want it.”

“Tough shit. It’s yours.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t have to use it right now,” Pat says, and takes the box from her. “I’ll put it in your closet, and one day when you’re all alone and need some company, take it down. Think of me when you use it.”

Pat hides the box, and smokes a cigarette on Addy’s windowsill while she sulks, and eventually Pat comes back in to kiss Addy’s cheek, her breath tasting like smoke, before leaving again.

Addy lies in bed, an uncomfortable pulsing between her legs, her comic forgotten on her nightstand. She reaches down and glides her fingers into her underwear, into the space between her legs and over that little button of flesh that she’s felt a couple times in the shower.

It feels good, like a sizzle of heat through her whole body, and she does it again. And again. She slides her fingers lower and feels wetness, and there’s — there’s the hole. For the  _ thing _ that Pat just gave her. She must’ve known it was there, but she’s never really explored before.

She slides her fingers in, the palm of her hand pressing into that sensitive upper spot, and bites down a moan as the combined sensations run through her whole body. She tries to imagine it, something bigger than her fingers inside her, stretching her out.

_ Think of me when you use it. _

She buries her teeth in her bottom lip as she thinks of Pat. She tries not to, but when she does the sensations intensify and feel so much better, as she pushes her hips down onto her palm, over and over, her fingers inside. Pat’s cigarettes and swearing and bad ideas, and the way she sometimes touches Addy in places no one else ever has. Not for long, not much, but — sometimes.

She buries her face in her pillow as the feelings heighten, and gasps Pat’s name into it as her hips jerk forward and a warm feeling floods her whole body, like waves of pleasure running down all her nerves. She pulls her hand out of her pants and looks at it, the stickiness down to her wrist. She grabs a Kleenex from her nightstand and wipes it off, and gets up on wobbling legs to half-run to the bathroom.

She flushes the Kleenex and cleans herself up, and looks in the mirror. She feels like something has changed, but she looks exactly the same.

Unbidden, her mind flashes to the thing that Pat got her, and she shivers. She’s still not getting it out. No matter what.

Addy goes back to bed and has a dream that she barely remembers, with Pat’s dark eyes and wicked smile and black lipstick, and her voice, low and rough from smoking, calling her  _ little sister _ as her fingers crawl up Addy’s thigh.

* * *

Addy really intends to never use it.

She finds a better hiding place for it, under one of her floorboards, and wraps it up in a grocery store bag along with the little lube bottle. She keeps using her fingers, though — that’s different, and a little less scary.

Roxie tells her one time, out of nowhere, that it’s called an orgasm. “It’s like a seizure,” Roxie says, “but good. Like your body is on fire, in a good way.”

It’s not a helpful description, but Addy thinks it’s the same thing.

She fully intends to never use it, until one night when it’s late and she’s bored and the feeling between her legs is demanding attention. Pat had sat with her at school today, on the bleachers, one hand high up on Addy’s thigh under her skirt. Her fingers brushing closer and closer to her cunt, but always maddenly far. It had come to her mind over dinner, and she’d clamped her legs shut under the table as her face went bright red. Mommy had asked her if she was hot, if she had a fever. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Pat’s fingers.

Addy pulls up the floorboard and unwraps the dildo, looking at it. It’s been over two years since she got it, maybe it scares her less now. She tucks it under her shirt and runs to the bathroom to scrub it with soap and water, because she’s sure it’s gotten all sorts of germs from under the floor. Before she goes back to her room, she grabs a spare, old towel from under the sink, and when she gets back she locks her door before stripping naked.

She opens the bottle of lube, the clack of the cap loud enough to make her wince, and drizzles some of it — maybe a little too much — on the dildo. She doesn’t know if it’s big or not. She doesn’t know what’s normal. She’s heard Roxie talk about them before, about how they’re better than fucking real guys since they don’t talk.

Addy doesn’t think she wants to fuck real guys, so it doesn’t matter either way.

When it’s all slicked up, Addy wipes her damp hand on the towel and lies down on the bed. She lines up the dildo with the opening between her legs, and starts to slide it in. It doesn’t hurt, the fat pink head slides into her without pain and goes deeper.

Addy feels herself clenching around it and whimpers, reaching up to bite down on her hand, as it slides in deeper, until she gets to the base. She feels  _ full _ , and so turned on that she thinks if she touches her clit — the name another thing she learned from Roxie — she’ll come in an instant.

She breathes deep, adjusting to the feeling of it inside her, and starts to pump it in and out, not letting her fingers stray to her clit yet. The drag of the soft head and the feeling of fullness are overwhelming.

_ Think of me while you do it _ , she thinks, and clenches down hard with a moan dragged out of her mouth. She is thinking of Pat, she realizes. Pat’s leather jackets and vicious smile and Pat touching her, gently, the way she always does—

A creak sounds as her window is shoved open. Her eyes snap open.

Pat is there, grinning madly.

Addy pulls out the dildo so fast that she can feel lube splattering the inside of her thighs, and wraps her blanket around her waist. Her belly feels like it’s full of writhing worms as she remembers what she was only just thinking. Like her thoughts brought Pat here.

“Finally,” Pat says. “I was worried you really wouldn’t.”

“Get out,” Addy says. She knows she’s bright red. She knows Pat won’t leave.

“What, and miss the show?” Pat sits down in the chair in the corner of her room. “Don’t stop on my account, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off,” Addy says.

“Fuck  _ yourself _ ,” Pat says. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I’ll get Mommy—”

“And tell her that you let me into your room when you’re naked?”

Addy stops, feeling almost cold all of the sudden. There’s something in Pat’s eyes that tells her that she doesn’t have much choice here.

She takes a deep breath, and grabs the dildo again, her fingers slipping a little on the surface. “Take off the blanket,” Pat says, and Addy throws it aside. She realizes that Pat is seeing her whole body, every inch; she looks up and sees nothing but hunger. Pat is pulling off her rings, she sees, one by one, and dropping them on Addy’s dresser, and as Addy watches, she undoes the button of her jeans and slides one hand in. Addy’s cunt clenches almost painfully, a wave of heat running through her. It feels so good that it almost makes her lightheaded. “Go on,” Pat says, almost breathless, and Addy nods.

She lies back again, against her pillows, and slowly pushes it back in, closing her eyes as she does. She hears Pat’s sharp inhale as it bottoms out, and she starts to thrust it in and out, slowly, the drag and burn lighting up new nerves throughout her body.

“Angle it up a bit,” Pat says, and she does, and feels her whole body twitch at the new sensation, fuller and thicker. Her fingers are slippery with lube and all she can hear are the sounds of her frantic breathing and the slick, squelching sounds as she slides it in and out. And Pat’s noises, the quieter sounds of her quickened breath. She opens her eyes to look. Pat is still there, eyes boring into her, shrugging off her jacket before sliding her hand back between her legs.

“Faster,” Pat says, and Addy goes faster. That feels good, too — less time to adjust to the stretch, more desperate. It feels better, even though it hurts, just a little. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, a moan slipping out of her mouth as she reaches to rub her fingers over her clit, running them in circles.

After maybe a minute of this, as she thinks she’s getting close, Addy hears her bed creak and opens her eyes. Pat is there, kneeling on the edge of her bed, naked — she must’ve taken off her clothes while Addy was distracted. She slows down her thrusts as Pat reaches out and takes the dildo out of her hand.

“Let me,” she says, breathing hard. Addy can see the shine of dampness between her thighs. She can’t stop looking at Pat, all the details; her stick-thin and muscle-corded body, her small breasts with rosy nipples that she wants to lick, the fine dark hair between her legs.

She wants to touch. She wants to  _ be _ touched.

She lets Pat take the dildo and start to thrust.

Pat goes faster than she did, almost violent, but it feels good. Addy chokes down a moan as Pat’s other hand casually tweaks one of her nipples, reaches down to twist her clit for just a moment of pleasure-pain, touches her lips. She opens her mouth and Pat slides a finger in, deep, for just a moment before pulling it out again.

The toy keeps thrusting in and out and Pat devotes attention to her clit, real attention, fingers moving quick and perfect. Addy can’t hold back the cry of pleasure as her orgasm starts to build.

“Yeah,” Pat says, her eyes glittering with something terrifying and wonderful, “yeah, you like that? You’re so goddamn good. Are you gonna come, little sis? Are you gonna come for me?”

Addy nods, frantic, and Pat leans down to lick a stripe up her clit and it pushes her over the edge, her cunt clenching hard around the toy, grabbing Pat’s hair with one hand just for something to cling to in the storm kicking up inside her body. She lets out a half-sob as the orgasm fades, and Pat slowly pulls out the dildo, putting it aside.

“See?” she says. “I always know best.”

Addy laughs, and rolls over.

Pat does know best, it seems. Better than her.

“Wanna try something else?” Pat asks.

“What?”

“Lie down on your back.”

Addy shifts down on the bed and lies fully down, and Pat crawls up her body, until she’s hovering over Addy, face to face. She leans down and kisses Addy, full on the mouth.

It’s a long, dirty kiss, open mouths and tongue and teeth, and Addy feels a little breathless when Pat pulls away. “I’m gonna sit on your face,” Pat says, “and you’re going to do that to my cunt.”

Addy stops breathing for a moment, the combination of wanting and terror so strong she feels like it might kill her. “I don’t—”

“Be good for me.” Pat pecks her lips once more, and crawls further up until there it is, her cunt in Addy’s face. She’s terrified of how turned on she already is again, how she wants to reach between her thighs this very second, and as Pat lowers down, she tries to put it aside. She rests her hands on Pat’s thighs and leans up to lick a hesitant line up from Pat’s cunt to her clit.

Pat groans, and Addy can see her gripping the bed frame above her. She licks again, swirling her tongue around Pat’s clit, and then sucks on it like a lollipop — going by the noises Pat is making, she really likes that.

Experimentally, she takes one hand off Pat’s thigh and reaches to slide a finger inside Pat’s cunt, slick and warm. Pat lets out a soft cry and her hips jerk a little into Addy’s face. She keeps licking Pat’s clit and slides a second finger inside, rubbing them the way she always does for herself, until Pat lets out a near-sob and Addy feels her clenching around the fingers inside, a gush of dampness running down her fingers.

Addy can see Pat’s thighs shaking as she climbs off Addy’s face and lies down next to her. She’s flushed and grinning and reaches out to run a finger through the wetness on Addy’s face.

“You’re so good, little sis,” she says, and Addy can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Thanks.”

Pat kisses her cheek, and gets off Addy’s bed. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she says as she pulls her jeans and shirt back on. No bra, no underwear. She pulls on her leather jacket and heads back to the window.

“Night, sis,” she says.

“Goodnight,” Addy says, and she waves as she climbs out the window and closes it with a quiet thunk.

Addy doesn’t even know what to think. She drags herself to the bathroom to clean up, wipe off her face and clean between her legs, washes the dildo before wrapping it back up and putting it away. She gets dressed in her pajamas and turns off her light and lies down.

She can’t stop thinking about Pat. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever stop. It’s terrifying and perfect and seems like something she’s always been waiting for.

Eventually, Addy falls asleep. But the edge of fear doesn’t go away.


End file.
